


The Shop on the Corner

by CasCase



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Board Games, Bookstore Owner!Castiel, Found Family, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mostly Fluff, With Pining, book clubs, delivery guy!Dean, depression and recovery, mentioned Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, past emotionally abusive relationship (offscreen)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 22:39:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14247231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasCase/pseuds/CasCase
Summary: Two years ago Castiel left behind his job and his past to fulfill his dream of opening a neighborhood bookshop. Now, his shop is popular and he’s finding himself fitting in with his new community. He’s perfectly happy with his quiet life among the books.Perhaps the only thing that could make it absolutely perfect would be the attentions of Dean-the-Delivery-Guy. But, of course that means Castiel will have to work beyond his own insecurities to find a way to see the gorgeous man more than once a week.Maybe he should stick to the books after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The time has finally come to post this thing! I have had such a blast working on PineFest, and I'm excited to share this fic and the fabulous art that goes with it. It has been a great experience, and I truly love the joy and welcoming spirit of the community of pining aficionados in the Destiel family!
> 
> I have a lot of Thank-Yous! 
> 
> First of all, to my amazing artist, [Busy Squirrel](https://bs-acorns.tumblr.com/), for choosing my fic, putting up with a challenge newbie, and making wonderful art for it! Please go show Busy some major love!! Fan artists are incredible.
> 
> Second, to my friend, beta, and partner-in-crime, [hannah_bo](http://fangirlisms-22.tumblr.com/). Thank you for sticking with me and my long stretches of procrastination. I probably wouldn't have actually finished the thing without you. [(She writes, too.)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannah_bo/works)
> 
> And, finally, to the fabulous PineFest mods! Thank you Cass and Mittens for your fearless leadership and support. You help make fandom a beautiful space :-)
> 
> Oh, and you! Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> Now, to the pining!

 

The bell over the door jingled merrily as Cas closed and locked the front door of his bookshop behind him. The overnight security lights cast a gentle glow over the tiny space cramped with shelves. Cas smiled softly at each shelf he passed, all of them stuffed full of books he hand-picked for the shop. He’d read almost every book lining his shelves, and his favorite thing was recommending new favorites to his patrons.

Cas opened his little bookshop two years ago, after a loan from his older brother, Gabriel, and cashing out his 401k when he quit the accounting firm. The space was small, but the rent was cheap and he knew he couldn't maintain a large supply of books on his budget and with his small customer pool. Cas tossed his keys into the tray on his desk (which was squeezed into a corner behind the cash register) and settled in to an hour or two of paperwork before the store officially opened at eight. He was hoping he managed to keep a tight enough hold on his finances during the month to pay all of the bills both at the shop and at home.

It wasn't the money that inspired him to open a bookshop, of course, and his accounting experience definitely helped spread his meager takings a little further. Cas’s favorite part of the business was his weekly calendar.

On Mondays he opened the space to a local book club. It was made up of single moms and older women who got together and discussed romance novels. Cliché, sure, but the most current book on their list was a relatively well-known gay romance novel, and their discussions were enlightened and endearing to the point that Cas found himself joining in with gusto last week.

Tuesdays were two-for-one days on nonfiction and children's books, and he got a fascinating mix of customers looking for either or both. A little boy named Ben came in with his mom every week to fill up on new books and tell Cas all about the ones he devoured in the last week.

Wednesday nights there was a group of college students that used the small lounge space to study late into the night. Kevin, their ringleader, was pre-med, and he convinced Cas to host the study night because of his proximity to a local coffee shop. Cas thought Kevin just liked the atmosphere.

Fridays were game night; teenagers and college students stuffed the shop full and played everything from Scrabble to table-top RPGs well past closing time.

Saturdays were a standard business day, but they were also his highest volume day of the week, so he could usually tell if he was going to make rent or not based on his sales.

He decided to close on Sundays to save money on utilities and to give himself at least one guaranteed day off a week.

And then there were Thursdays. Thursdays were his favorite day of the week. Thursdays were _delivery days_.

Thursdays weren’t always his favorite. In fact, when he first opened the shop he dreaded having to go through the whole process of cataloguing and unpacking new inventory. The weekly arrival of the delivery truck was simply part of the solo-shop-owner package. He’d sign for the boxes, take in the new stock, and go about the rest of his week.

Then, six months ago Cas opened the backdoor to find the sunny smile and impossible facial symmetry of Dean-the-Delivery-Guy waiting for him with boxes full of books. The brown uniform did nothing to hide his athletic build, though the shorts did highlight the endearing bow of his legs. It was as if the universe had granted all of Cas’s wishes at once.

Throughout the months, Dean featured in more of Cas’s masturbatory fantasies than Cas would care to admit. He’s avoided jerking off to thoughts of Dean on Wednesday nights after one particularly embarrassing Thursday when he could hardly look the delivery man in the eye. His face burned bright red, prompting Dean to ask if he had a fever. Cas thought he’d die of embarrassment.

The universe plopped Dean on his doorstep. Now, Cas just needed to figure out exactly what to do with this unexpected gift.

As Cas put the last numbers into his spreadsheet and hit save (he was going to survive another week, it seemed), the chimes from the back doorbell went off. He smoothed his sweater vest and adjusted the collar of his shirt as he rose and moved toward the receiving door. A small smile quirked the corner of his lips as he reached for the handle.

"Heya, Cas!"

The sun was bright outside but it was nothing to the brilliant smile of the beautiful delivery man standing before him. Cas couldn't help but grin back.

"Hello, Dean."

"I've got four boxes for you today, Cas," Dean said, handing Cas a handheld scanner to sign for his packages. Cas nodded and signed, holding the device while Dean hauled the boxes through the door. Cas tried not to stare at his ass in his brown uniform shorts, but, as usual, he was unsuccessful.

"How is your brother?" Cas asked as Dean shuffled the boxes around so Cas could easily access their contents.

"He's good. Eileen is still wedding planning, so he's up to his ears in flower arrangements and shit like that. And that's a lot, considering how tall he is." He grinned at Cas again, holding his hand out for the scanner. "How's the shop?"

"It's going well. It's still open, anyway. You should stop by sometime. You know, through the business entrance."

Cas cringed a little at how that came out, but Dean just smiled more.

"Yeah, I should. I'm sure you've got a great sci-fi section."

Cas nodded. "Of course. And there's board game night tomorrow." He hesitated, then throws out, "And the book group is reading Carver Edlund's _Wings_ , if you wanted to stop by on Monday."

An eternity seemed to pass between Cas's statement and Dean's reply. Cas thought he knew enough about Dean that he wouldn't be put off by an invitation to a discussion about a gay romance novel, but he could never be quite sure. To his relief, Dean smiled, lips quirking sideways.

"The Mom Squad is reading _Wings_ , huh? Wow, it's been a long time since I've read it. Maybe I should brush up?"

Cas tried to slow his heart rate down, pulse taking off at the thought of Dean reading the novel that had helped him discover his own sexuality (even if he thought the whole thing was a little cheesy now), and even owning a copy that he could re-read.

"Well, anyone is welcome," Cas said, trying to keep his voice even. Dean flashed his signature grin again.

"Maybe I'll see you. Have a good day, Cas!"

With that he hopped back in the truck and drove off. Cas moved to open the new boxes of books, his Thursday smile fixed on his face.

 

 

 

"Cassie, I don't understand why you don't just ask the guy out."

Cas sipped his green tea latte and rolled his eyes. He and Gabriel have been having this argument since Dean's route changed to include the Book Nook in January. He'd made the mistake of actually telling Gabriel about the gorgeous delivery driver after that first Thursday. Gabriel had been his typical, tactful self and told Cas he needed to "get a piece of that" before Cas told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't going to sexually harass the poor man who was just trying to do his job. Besides, most likely it was a substitute route for him, and Cas would never see Dean again.

Both luckily and unluckily for Cas, Dean never missed a day, and every Thursday morning he’d been treated to the sunshine of his week.

"Hellooo, Earth to Cassie!" Gabriel droned, snapping fingers in front of Cas's face. Cas glared. "Wow, you have got it so bad for this delivery hunk it's not even funny. I was mostly just kidding."

"Gabriel, if I had known you would be this insufferable about it, I would never have said anything to you."

"Sure you would!"

"No, I really don't think so."

"You would have, because I'm generally insufferable anyway and would have weaseled it out of you at some point."

Cas huffed through his nose, reluctantly conceding the point. "That is not a positive character attribute," Cas muttered mostly to his latte. Gabriel laughed.

"Sure it is! I should put it on my resume!"

"Insufferable?"

"Nah, 'tenacious.' Makes me sound driven."

Cas rolled his eyes. "Ambition was never really your strong suit, was it?"

"I was as ambitious as I needed to be for as long as I needed to be, little bro. I wanted to retire early, so I did. Can't get much more ambitious than that."

Gabriel had become moderately famous and comfortably wealthy writing a series of mediocre erotic novels that catered to middle-class housewives, then immediately retired and refused to write another page (though his publisher still hounded him at regular intervals for more). Cas had read them all, under extreme duress, and immediately decided that they weren't worth keeping in his precious trove of books either at home or at work.

"I suppose that is true," Cas conceded, swirling the dregs of his latte.

"Seriously, Cassie, if you're this stuck on that guy, you have to say something about it!" Cas groaned at the return to the subject. "I can't sit here and listen to you moon over him every week."

Cas glared again. "I do not _moon_."

"Okay, so you _pine_ , then. If you don't like that, I've got more synonyms where that came from."

"My brother the wordsmith."

"Listen, whatever you want to call it, I'm sick of it. Just ask him out! You said he'd read that overhyped gay romance book you were obsessed with in high school."

"First, the book was a landmark of its time and helped many young men come to terms with their sexuality, myself included. Second, I was justified in being enamored with it when it helped shape my identity, and third . . ." Cas sighed. "Just because he's read it doesn't mean he relates. I have no idea if he's interested in men."

"So ask him!" Gabriel exclaimed. "You'll never know if you don't ask. I mean, I guess all things being equal you could theoretically stumble across him getting hot and heavy with a dude in the back of his delivery truck, but rationally--"

"All right, enough! If it will shut you up, I will ask him to get coffee when I see him next. Does that make you happy?"

Gabriel grinned, slurping at his whipped-cream-topped mocha. "Ecstatic."

 

 

 

Cas had been counting on at least a week's buffer after promising Gabriel he would attempt to ask out Dean the next time he saw him. Fate, it seemed, had other ideas.

"Do you think your boy's gonna show tonight?" Charlie asked, setting out chairs at the small cluster of tables near the front of the store. Cas meticulously stacked the boxes of games from the supply closet behind the counter into his arms and spread them out on the tables.

"He's not my 'boy,'" Cas said, fighting a blush. "And I'm not sure. He's never come in for anything before, so probably not. He's probably busy."

"So, you don't think he'll be here?"

Cas shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

Charlie looked skeptical. "Mmhmm," she said. "That's why you keep fussing with your sweater, right? And why there's actual product in your hair for the first time . . . ever? Man, you have got it bad."

"I'm not sure what this 'it' is that I'm supposed to have, but I assure you I don't have it 'badly.'"

"Uh, huh. Hey, what is mystery guy's name?"

Cas shook his head. "No, absolutely not. You might have tricked me into telling you about my crush--"

"Ah hah! You admit it's a crush!"

Cas leveled her with a stare and she raised her hands in defeat. "If he does come tonight, you do not say a word."

Charlie mimed zipping and locking her lips, then threw away the key. Cas raised his eyebrow at her for good measure, then returned to setting up.

In the months since he'd started the board game night, a small crowd of regulars slowly started to fill their ranks. A family with a couple of elementary aged children always came in to play a few rounds of Uno and drink the coffee from next door. The D&D club from the local university usually played through a quest before closing time; Charlie sometimes joined them when she wasn't with her usual group of strategy game players. Cas was in the middle of helping a couple of kids set up for a game of Scrabble, Jr. when the door chimed. A quick glance up became a double take, and his heart climbed somewhere into the region of his throat. _Dean was here_.

"Hey, Cas!" he called brightly, waving. He strode confidently toward Cas as though he, too, owned the store.

As Dean approached, Cas realized he's never seen him out of his uniform. He looked striking in loose jeans, a dark t-shirt, and a blue and red plaid flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal well-muscled forearms. Dean grinned his usual sunshine smile and sauntered over to Cas, his adorable bow-legged gait on full display. Cas had to swallow purposefully to make sure his mouth wasn't too dry to speak before smiling back.

"Hello, Dean," he said. His heart fluttered as Dean stood next to him.

"Awesome setup you've got," Dean said. "Any suggestions on games?"

"No way, Dean, you promised you'd play Carcassonne with me this time!" piped a voice from next to Dean's left shoulder.

"Charlie?" Cas said, surprised. "I didn't know you and Dean knew each other."

"You know Charlie?" Dean asked, looking between the two of them. Charlie shrugged.

"Cas hosts the best board game night in town, plus he lets us play table-tops after hours if the game goes too long. Which you would _know_ if you’d come with me all of those times I’d begged you! C'mon, Dean, there's an open table!"

Dean frowned at her. "Uh, Charlie, you need at least three for Carcassonne." Charlie grinned, pulling chairs up to the empty table near the front windows of the store.

"Maybe Cas can join us?" she said, and if Cas didn't know better he could have sworn she winked at him.

Cas's heart took up residence in his throat again. Suddenly, having let slip about his crush to Charlie seemed like a terrible idea. The worst idea he's ever had in his life. Worse, even, than telling Gabriel.

“C'mon, Cas, you gonna join in?" Dean asked. Cas grinned back, wiping his sweaty palms on his slacks.

"Sure," he said, sliding into a seat at the table.

The game was simple enough to learn, and Cas found himself relaxing more and more as Charlie and Dean bickered and ribbed each other good-naturedly. Cas lost resoundingly, though in good spirits. He excused himself after that to go check on the rest of his patrons, though he couldn't help but listen to the mellifluous sound of Dean's laughter drifting across the shop as some of the local teens joined Dean and Charlie's table for a few other games Cas didn't recognize.

This was a mistake. Inviting Dean was a horrible mistake and he shouldn't have let Gabriel goad him into that stupid agreement. The very idea that Cas could handle having Dean in close proximity for an extended amount of time was absurd. Especially when he so easily slipped into the game night (and the shop) as though he’d always been there. There was absolutely no way that Cas would be able to somehow drum up the courage to ask Dean on an actual date.

Dean was beautiful, smiling and laughing, teaching the teens how to play some of the classic games left at the table. Cas hardly noticed the time passing, and before he knew it, it was closing time.

Cas went from table to table encouraging the players to wrap it up, hoping that the D&D club's quest was short tonight, cleaning up discarded cards and game pieces. Most patrons were respectful and careful with the store’s games, so there were only a handful of messy tables left to clean.

"Here, Cas, let me help you," Dean's voice said, much closer than Cas expected. He jumped, turning to look into those hypnotic green eyes, close enough to count the freckles on his nose. Cas must have paused too long, because Dean kept looking at him expectantly, slowly raising an eyebrow as the eye contact went on . . . and on . . . and on . . .

Someone nearby cleared their throat, and Cas leapt into action, hoping Dean didn’t notice. "Oh, yes, thank you. I just need to find all of the stray pieces for Monopoly here. I think I saw a hotel or two near Biographies."

Castiel definitely didn't stare at Dean's ass as he bent over to chase down pieces under the bookshelves. In fact, he told Charlie as much when she materializes next to him with a couple of packed up game boxes, just so she knew.

“I wasn’t checking him out,” Cas stammered. Charlie’s eyebrows climbed her forehead.

"Sure," she said knowingly. He scowled at her. "Hey, don't make those faces at me. I'm just here for the games."

"Got 'em, Cas!" Dean called, tipping a handful of plastic pieces into the Monopoly box. "Thanks for inviting me, it was a blast."

"Oh, are you leaving?" Cas asked, maybe a little too quickly judging by Dean’s startled laugh.

"Well, yeah, you are closing, right?" Cas blushed.

"Right. Of course. Well, I'm glad you could make it. It was nice to see you out of your uniform. I mean, in street clothes. Regular clothes!" He stopped, red all the way up to the tip of his ears. Dean's eyes sparkled. "It was good to see you," Cas amended. Dean smiled softly back at him.

"Yeah, you, too. Monday's the book club thing, right? Gotta brush up on my Carver Edlund over the weekend."

Cas blinked. "Well, you don't really have to. I mean, they are only discussing _Wings_ and I'm not sure it's good enough to warrant a second read . . ."

That was a terrible lie. Cas has read it so often he almost has it memorized. His own dog-eared copy still sat beside his bed in the loft he rented just a few blocks away.

"No, man, are you kidding? I loved that freakin' thing. I read it so much when I was a teenager that it fell apart! I had to keep taping pages back in once the binding completely fell to shit. Sammy used to make fun of me so much for reading a book about angels. And my dad--" He stopped himself suddenly, pink tingeing his cheeks as he looked away.

"I know what you mean," Cas said softly, recognizing something in the way Dean broke off. "I still have my original copy at home. It . . . meant a lot to me when I was younger."

"Yo, handmaiden!"

Cas suddenly realized that he and Dean had been staring again only when they broke eye contact to turn and look at Charlie, standing by the door with her eyebrows continuing their trek north. He should let Dean go, get away from the strange air that was developing between them, but there was one thing he couldn’t resist.

"Handmaiden?" Cas asked, arching his own brow. Dean blushed a little, shaking his head.

"Do _not_ ask," he muttered. "Thanks for the invite, Cas. I'll see you around?"

"I hope so."

Cas's heart had slowly slipped back down his throat throughout the evening, and now it curled up and settled comfortably in the center of his chest, pulsing slightly as he watched Dean retreat through the door, hands in his pockets, casting one last smile in his direction before heading off into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel spent his weekend trying not to think too hard about Dean. He didn't think about Dean when he went to bed on Friday night, curled up in bed with his well-worn copy of _Wings_ to refresh himself on the chapter up for discussion on Monday. He didn't think about Dean as he opened the store on Saturday morning and found a stray Monopoly piece near the register. He didn't think about Dean when he went out for a walk on Sunday afternoon when the silence in his apartment became too full of possibilities.

And he certainly wasn't thinking about Dean when he went to Gabriel's for dinner on Sunday night.

"So you didn't ask him out, then," Gabriel said, apropos of nothing.

"I'm not sure to whom you are referring," Cas replied, staring determinedly at his wine glass.

"Uh huh," said Gabe, staring Cas down. "You know, you'll never actually know whether or not the guy is interested in you unless you ask."

"Honestly, Gabriel, I don't know why you care so much," Cas said. "Maybe I should involve myself in your personal life? How are things with Kali?"

"Things are the way they always are. Don't change the subject," Gabriel quipped. "I care because you're my brother. And you've been lonely lately. Lonelier than normal."

Cas scoffed. "Please, I'm fine."

"Sure you are. Tell me the last thing you did with another person that doesn't involve your store."

"Well, I--"

"And wasn't with me, you cheat."

Cas sighed through his nose. "I am not lonely," he said, though even he could tell how weak that sounded.

"Cassie, you're almost forty years old. You haven't had a serious relationship since college, and you barely even have friends that exist outside of your shop. I'm sorry, but I want you to be happy."

"Gabriel, please trust me when I say that I am."

Gabriel examined him with his hazel puppy dog stare. Castiel met his eyes determinedly, and eventually Gabriel shrugged.

"Whatever. No skin off my nose. You do what you want, Cas."

Cas blinked, taken aback. "Thank you," he said sincerely, returning to his pasta.

 

 

 

Monday was quiet, and before he knew, it the book club patrons were trickling in carrying dishes with various snacks and desserts. He greeted them each in turn, from Mildred with her flirtatious demeanor and gentle laugh to Meg with her salacious winks and dry sense of humor. "Evening, Clarence," Meg drawled, tracing her hand down his arm.

"I’m still gay, Meg," he said, her laugh echoing off the walls.

The ladies of the book club gathered in a small circle of chairs set up near the back of the store. Cas grabbed a cookie and a bottle of water and walked around adjusting the chairs into a slightly more perfect circle, glancing up at the clock.

"Are you waiting for someone, sweetie?" asked Mildred, placing a hand on his arm.

"Um, no. Is everyone here?"

Mildred nodded. "Just waiting for you to stop pacing so we can start."

Cas ducked his head, glancing around at the women in the circle, then went back to mind the counter while a few shoppers browsed the shelves.

"Well, I think we can dive right in," said Lorraine Fox, adjusting her large framed glasses and turning to the group as though she was holding court. "Well, ladies, how did we find chapter eight? I know we were anxious to get into it last week, since several of you have read ahead." She made a significant nod toward Castiel, who managed to look shamed although he was mostly amused. "How do we feel about Nathaniel's developing relationship with Aiden? In this chapter we saw--"

"Sorry I'm late."

Cas's head snapped toward the door as Dean rushed in, a battered copy of _Wings_ clutched in his hand. He looked rushed, hair a little ruffled and cheeks flushed pink, eyes bright. More than one lady in the circle took notice, Castiel saw, and the back of his neck prickled with something he didn't want to examine too closely.

"And who are you?" asked Meg with great interest.

"I'm, uh, Dean. Dean Winchester." He glanced at Cas as though for reassurance. "Cas invited me."

The entire circle of women turned in unison to face Cas. Cas could feel the heat rising up from his gut and flushing his face bright red. Mildred smiled brightly at him, while Meg's grin turned full-on gleeful. He was going to have to answer for this later, definitely.

"Well, don't hover," said Mrs. Fox. "Pull up a chair."

Dean did, pushing his chair in a small space between two of the women. He smiled at them blithely, winked at Meg, then grinned at Castiel.

"Right, so, we were talking about Nathaniel and Aiden's developing relationship . . ."

Despite his rather awkward introduction, Dean fit in well with the group. Half an hour later, he was arguing spiritedly with Meg and Maggie Stark about the nuances of a particular sentence set mid-chapter. The warm bubble in Cas's chest pulsed lightly as he watched, trying not to let Dean catch his eye as he drifted in and out of discussion with Mildred and Mrs. Fox.

"Well, I know you young ones can stay up talking half the night, but it's getting late and this old bird has to get home before she turns into a pumpkin," said Mildred, patting Cas on the arm as she stood.

"I'll walk you out Mrs. Baker," he said, brushing aside her usual pooh-poohing of the title. The other women started packing up the food they'd brought as he walked her to the door.

"Now, Castiel, you make sure you keep that one in your sight," she said, one foot out of the door.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Cas said, avoiding her gaze. She chuckled.

"Oh, you get to be my age, the life I've lived . . . It's easy to see when you're pining for someone."

Cas swallowed hard. "I'm not . . . I don't . . ." Mildred laughed again.

"Oh, honey, don't worry! I don't think he can see it. Your secret is safe with me."

Cas watched her walk out, stunned. She was right, he'd been obvious. Dean hadn't looked at him much all night, but Cas was sure he'd been obvious enough to tell. And now Dean would be awkward, and they'd have to go back to simply being a business owner and a delivery man, and he could never show his face in public again just in case they ran into each other, and--

"Hey, Cas!"

Dean had appeared at his elbow again, startling him. "Oh, hello, Dean."

"Thanks for inviting me. This was fun."

"Um, yes. Well, you're welcome any time."

Dean continued to smile at him as the rest of the book club filed past. Finally, Dean and Cas were the only two left in the store.

"Well," Cas said, clearing his throat. "I'm going to close up for the night."

"Right, yeah," Dean said, fiddling with his copy of _Wings_. "You, uh, want some help?"

Cas found himself agreeing without a thought, so Dean set about straightening the chairs while Cas counted the register drawer and put the money in the safe. Dean even went into the supply closet and unearthed a broom, which he used to sweep the floor. Cas couldn't help what was probably a dopey-eyed gaze at Dean as he danced around the store to some tune in his head. When Dean had finished, Cas closed the safe with a clang loud enough to alert Dean, who stopped sweeping and looked around.

"Ready to go?" Dean asked. Cas nodded.

Dean stepped outside and took a deep breath as Cas locked the shop door behind them both. Cas, for his part, wasn't sure what Dean wanted, but he almost didn't want to speak to break the spell. Under the warm golden light of the street lamp, Dean looked beautiful. His freckles were soft across his nose and cheeks, his eyes a golden green, the gold highlights of his hair thrown into sharp relief. Cas tore his eyes away as quickly as he could, lest he get caught staring.

"Well, I'm glad you came," Cas repeated. "My, uh, apartment is this way," he continued, gesturing down the street.

"Oh, is it close?" Dean asked.

"Just a couple of blocks. I usually walk to work, unless the weather is too bad. Then I make my brother drop me off."

Dean laughed out loud at that. "That's right, your brother the porn star."

"Oh, he's not a porn star," Cas corrected as they started to walk in the direction of his home. "He wrote a series of erotic novels in the early nineties that managed to make him a very wealthy man. Mostly he just spends his time traveling the country sampling baked goods and annoying me about my personal life."

Cas held his breath a little, hoping Dean wouldn’t ask what Gabriel generally annoyed him about. Because if Dean asked, he would see how terrible of a liar Cas was and then Cas would have to tell the truth, then Dean would realize that Cas was a little too invested in their friendship and it was probably just a little creepy--

 "Man, I get that, too. Sam's got the wedding, right? So all I hear is 'When are you gonna settle down, Dean?' 'You're not getting any younger, Dean.' If I had a nickel for every time he told me he thought I'd be happier married, or at least with someone . . ." He nudged Cas with his shoulder. "Well, you wouldn't see me every Thursday on my delivery route, anyway."

"I'm glad you came," Cas said genuinely, seizing on a subject change. "Your thoughts were insightful. I especially enjoyed what you had to say about Aiden's upbringing making it difficult for him to express his feelings."

"Yeah, well, Nathaniel doesn't make it easy, being an angel. Aiden's got his work cut out for him, especially since he doesn't want Nathaniel to fall."

"But that's Nathaniel's choice," Cas argued. "He would have fallen, anyway, even without Aiden's influence."

"You really think so?" Dean said, looking at Cas curiously. Cas nodded fervently.

"Oh, yes. You can tell that he is beginning to doubt even before he meets Aiden, right at the beginning. Falling in love, the metaphor for his eventual fall from grace, is simply the catalyst that takes him toward that final plunge."

"Huh," Dean said, and then they were silent for a time. Castiel stopped in front of his building, reluctant to break the comfortable silence between them.

"Thank you for walking me home, Dean," he said finally. A sheepish grin crossed Dean's features.

"You caught that, huh?" Dean said, suddenly bashful. Cas smiled at him and nodded. "Damn, guess I'm not as smooth as I thought."

"You should join us again next week," Cas said, voice going soft. “I enjoy the participation of the women of the book club, and I appreciate their investment, but . . .” Cas took a deep breath, looking down at Dean’s shoes, heart racing. Now was as good a time as any. “It’s nice, having someone else there who can relate. Who knows the book like I do! Who knows it well, I mean.” Another steadying breath. “I’d like for you to come back,” Cas said, chancing a glance up. Dean's green eyes caught him in their steady gaze. A small, shy smile lit up Dean’s features.

"Okay," he said, and Cas couldn’t help smiling back. “I’d, uh, I’d really like that, too.”

Then Dean stepped slightly forward. Cas's breath caught in his throat, and suddenly he was leaning imperceptibly closer, gravitating toward the gorgeous man before him. His heart pounded in his chest, surely loud enough for Dean to hear.

"Cas," Dean breathed, so close now Cas could count his freckles.

"Yes?" Cas asked, surprised at how low his voice sounded.

A loud rock tune burst from Dean's pocket, shattering the moment. Cas stepped back quickly, tugging on his shirt as Dean pulled his phone from his jeans pocket, checking the name. "Oh, shit, Cas, sorry," he said, already moving backward. "I gotta take this." He looked up at Cas and smiled again, soft and private. "I'll, uh, see you Thursday?"

Cas nodded, the bitter bile of disappointment starting to climb up into his chest. "See you Thursday," he repeated, his smile wavering.

Dean waved as he trotted back in the direction of the shop. "Hey," he said into his phone. "Yeah, sorry, got stuck, uh, caught up, you know? I'm headed home now . . ."

 Cas didn't wait to hear more of the conversation, instead turning and trying to climb the stairs to his apartment as calmly as he could. He managed to get into the loft and shut the door behind him before he sank his head into his hands.

He had almost kissed Dean! How had he let that happen? He wasn't even sure that Dean wanted it . . . Except, hadn't he been leaning forward, too? Damn, it was so hard to tell. He should have just asked if Dean was interested, seen if he wanted to go out for coffee or something. He was a grown man, shouldn't he be able to do something that simple?

He couldn’t keep feeling worthless, couldn’t keep feeling like he didn’t deserve . . . that he couldn’t . . . God, why was this so hard?

Starting to feel despondent, he peeled off the layers of his day and moved to climb into bed. Well, he wouldn't see Dean again until Thursday, and then he could see if he'd been imagining the gravitating pull or not. He'd simply seen too much of Dean lately, that was all. He should stick with the brief glimpses and the small fantasies, rather than alienate him and never see his sunny face again.

Gabriel would just have to find someone else to bother about their personal life.

 

 

 

Dean came to book club the next week, though he was late again. He arrived in the middle of a heated debate about a climactic scene.

“No, no, no, Mildred, I think you’ve completely missed the point of Aiden’s speech to Nathaniel in this chapter!” Mrs. Fox exclaimed. “He’s trying to save Nathaniel from the curse. Aiden is cursed.”

A general uproar went through the circle. “No way, Aiden isn’t cursed,” interjected Meg. “That’s just Aiden’s deep sense of self-loathing that he learned from his father—”

“Can we not make everything about daddy issues?” demanded Maggie.

Castiel gave up after his third attempt to try to interject when a small chuckle sounded by his left ear. He turned to see Dean leaning back in his chair, watching the exchange with amusement.

“What?” Cas asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Dean said. Cas raised an eyebrow. “Okay, it’s just I think everybody gets this scene wrong.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, Aiden is pushing Nathaniel away really hard, right? But it’s not because of his dad, or his history, or this ‘curse’ or whatever.”

Cas tilted his head slightly. “Then why would he?” Dean leaned in very close, and Cas mirrored him. Their knees were almost touching.

“He’s scared,” Dean murmured, volume dropping with their proximity. “Aiden’s fucking terrified. He hasn’t been in love with anyone before, and then Nathaniel drops into his life with those giant, gorgeous wings of his and now he’s got all these cracks that start to show.”

“I think Aiden’s justified,” Cas said. “He hasn’t had it easy, and after what happened to him, after his childhood, don’t you think he’s allowed to be a little gun shy?”

“Well, yeah, I never said it wasn’t _understandable_ , but the dude’s gotta let people in eventually.”

“What if he can’t? What if he’s still so scared of what could go wrong that he lets something wonderful pass him by?”

“Then he just has to make sure to break through for the right person.”

Dean’s eyes were intense again, freckles close, Cas’s heart climbing into his throat.

“ _Ahem_.”

A soft cough broke the moment. Cas looked away to find the eyes of the entire group upon them, but felt Dean’s gaze for longer.

“You boys have anything you wanna share with the class?” Meg drawled, arching her brow.

“I think that’s quite enough discussion for tonight,” Cas said. “Reconvene next Monday?”

The blush painting Cas’s cheeks gradually drained as he and the group put the shop back in order. Cas resolutely tried not to notice Dean lingering as everyone else said their goodbyes. In fact, as she left, Meg smacked Cas’s ass and whispered, “If you don’t tap that, I will.” And then, the shop was empty, and he was alone with Dean again.

“Thank you for coming, Dean,” Cas said. “It was . . . good to see you.”

“Yeah, you, too,” Dean said. “You gonna close up here, or . . .?”

“Um, yes.”

Cas wasn’t sure why, but Dean continued to stand around for a moment longer, as though waiting.

“I guess I’ll just . . . go . . .” Dean said, moving toward the door.

“Wait,” Cas said. Dean turned, hopeful. “Could you . . . walk me home?”

Dean’s eyes lit up, but he kept the rest of his expression neutral. “Yeah, Cas,” he said softly.

The walk was nice, again, but Cas could hardly breathe every time the backs of their hands brushed. His palm tingled with the urge to reach out, but he was pretty sure that it would be the wrong move.

“This is me,” Cas said, gesturing at the building. Dean nodded. Cas swallowed hard. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Anytime, Cas,” he said, before smiling gently and turning. “See you Thursday.”

Cas watched him walk away, hands in his pockets, and smiled to himself. “See you Thursday.”

 

 

 

A comfortable routine developed as the next few weeks went by. Dean would come by on Thursdays for his usual drop-off, and the two would joke and smile as usual. Only, as time went on, Cas swore he could feel something charged in the air between them. He found out more about Sam’s wedding than he ever wanted to know, and blushed shyly when Dean mentioned that he might bring Sam by the shop sometime.

“Giant moose nerd will love the shit out of this place,” Dean said. “Bet he’d get along great with you, too.”

Friday night game nights became Cas’s weekly hang-out with Dean and Charlie. It was after two or three weeks, while sitting at a table and laughing over a particularly brutal round of Sorry!, that Cas was hit with the sudden realization: he had _friends_. Butterflies erupted in his stomach as he tried to hide his discovery from the other two at the table.

Then there were Monday book club meetings. Dean was wonderful. Empathetic and quick-witted, Dean managed to draw Cas into more debates about the text than anyone else in the group ever had. One night, as the rest of the group was leaving, Meg passed him with a knowing look on her face.

“Careful with the heart-eyes, Clarence,” she said, and Cas blushed from clavicle to hairline.

And with Monday book club came the walk home. Every time, after he’d closed the shop, Dean walked him the few blocks to his apartment and they got to know each other. They eventually branched out into topics like Cas’s childhood, and Dean’s family. Cas learned that Dean had wanted to go to college for engineering, but needed to earn money to help put Sam through school first. Cas told Dean about coming out to his family, and how Gabriel had been the only one who truly embraced him. The silences were always thick between them, and whenever they got to his door, Cas felt like there was something missing from their abrupt partings.

But still, Cas couldn’t bring himself to just ask Dean on a date.

One Monday in mid-July, Cas opened the store with a wary eye on the weather. The sky was dark, despite the sun likely being high in the sky behind the gathering storm clouds. He shrugged his trench coat off onto the rack behind the register and watched carefully as a wind kicked up dust and debris along the streets throughout the day. He wondered if he should have called off the book club meeting and closed early when dusk fell, the smell of rain somewhere in the distance drifting in on the cool breeze.

It was a small group that evening, anyway, just Castiel, Meg, Mildred, and Dean. They managed a quiet discussion, but when thunder cracked and lightning lit up the sky outside, Cas called an end to the meeting.

"I'm going to close the store early," he said. "It's silly to sit here when there might be a tornado coming." He turned to Mildred and Meg. "Will you be able to make it home all right?" he asked.

"Don't you worry about it, Clarence, I'll make sure Millie gets home safe," Meg said, winking in his direction. He realized as Meg and Mildred left the store that it put him alone with Dean for the first time in weeks. They stared at each other for a moment until a thunderclap pulled Cas from his stupor.

"You should go home, Dean," Cas said, turning to complete his closing routines quickly.

"Nah, I'm good. I brought my car so I'll be fine to get home. Did you walk?"

"As the shop owner, I insist that you go so that you can reach shelter before the storm begins in earnest," Cas said, ignoring Dean's question.

"I'm a big boy, Cas," Dean said, crossing his arms. "I'm not leaving you here by yourself."

Cas slammed a register closed and shoved the cash into the safe. "I, too, am a 'big boy' and can make it home without your assistance," Cas said irritably. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"What is up with you today?” he demanded.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Cas said, grabbing his trench coat from the coat rack and moving toward the door. Dean stepped in front of him and blocked it. "Dean, let me leave," Cas said sternly. Dean shook his head.

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

Cas opened his mouth for a moment, looking up to meet Dean's eyes, a question hovering on his lips.

An enormous thunderclap shook the foundations of the building and the heavens opened. The wind caused the rain to blow nearly sideways in sheets, buffeting the front of Castiel's shop. A bright flash of lightning rent the sky and suddenly the entire block was plunged into darkness.

"Power's out," Dean said.

 "Yes, thank you," spat Cas. He was irritated that Dean had delayed him, and now he would have to walk home in the torrential downpour.

"Look, Cas, let me give you a ride home. I don't think you should--"

A high-pitched wail started outside, growing in pitch and intensity, and Cas looked to Dean in a panic.

"Tornado siren," said Dean grimly, glancing toward the windows. "I'm just gonna--"

He made as though to go through the door, but Cas grabbed onto his arm. "Wait, you can't go out there!" he said, mouth dry. Dean turned back to him, clearly taking in the blind panic that had taken over Cas.

"All right," said Dean, and Cas breathed a sigh of relief. "Not like you can see anything out there, anyway. Gotta move away from these windows."

Cas nodded, enough presence of mind to lock the door as they moved away from the window-lined front wall. Cas followed Dean blindly for a few steps into the small pools of emergency lights that had kicked on when the electricity went. He was trying to control his breathing, but it was getting more and more difficult the more time passed.

"Okay, Cas, you got a storm shelter? Or somewhere we can hunker down until it passes?" Dean asked. Cas's mind slowly ground through what Dean was saying before he nodded.

"Yes, the storeroom. It's an interior room with no windows and reinforced cinder block walls. There is a weather radio in there as well, I believe."

Dean took hold of Cas's hand and led him toward the room Cas indicated. The storeroom was little more than a glorified closet, so when he and Dean entered there was little space between them. Dean helped Cas sit down on an overturned bucket and used the light of his cell phone to find the weather radio.

Luckily, the little thing had batteries, and Dean tuned it until he found a news station within the static. He listened for a moment, apparently satisfied with what he heard, then pulled up an unopened box and sat across from Cas, their knees touching. Cas was working on keeping his breathing steady, listening to the downpour outside. Dean reached over and patted his knee reassuringly.

"Hey, man, it's cool. We just gotta ride it out for a little bit, okay? The warning expires in about twenty minutes, then I'll make sure to get you home."

Cas nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Dean's brow creased. "Is this your first tornado warning?" he asked. Cas shook his head.

"No. I've experienced a few strong storms during the years I have lived here, but I'm--I'm not used to them, I suppose."

"Aren't you from Kansas?"

Cas looked at him, startled. He realized that though he’d told Dean about what it was like growing up with his brothers, he’d never told him about exactly _where_ that happened.

"No, I grew up in Pennsylvania, in the country. Storms like these were something I had to adjust to when I moved here."

 "What brought you here?"

Cas chewed his lip. That was a particularly loaded question. Dean’s eyes were soft and concerned, making steady contact with Cas's. He decided to go for the truth--or most of it, at least.

"Gabriel," he said.

"The porn star," Dean said with a wink.

"He is not--oh, you're teasing."

"Yeah, I do that."

Cas shook his head. "Once Gabriel had cashed out on his novels and decided to retire, he got into his head that the Midwest would annoy our mother most, so he bought an enormous house and a large plot of land outside of Lawrence and settled down. Once I'd finished school, and . . . And things back East hadn't worked out as planned, I followed him here."

Dean looked like he wanted to ask more questions, so Cas said quickly, "You and your brother grew up here, didn't you? If I remember right?" Dean shrugged.

"More or less. Dad kind of moved us around a lot, after Mom. Lawrence was always 'home,' though, even if we only saw it once every couple of years."

Right, Dean’s father. They hadn’t approached the topic since Dean had almost mentioned him in conjunction with _Wings_ that first game night. Cas could tell that there was not a happy story there. Since he had his own dark past he didn’t want to delve into, he could respect avoiding Dean’s.

"That is quite a bit of upheaval, for two boys growing up."

"It wasn't easy, that's for sure. Made school hard, anyway. I was always real impressed with Sammy getting into Stanford, 'cause he kind of had to take bits and pieces of his education everywhere. Uncle Bobby helped him with the paperwork, though, and that was the hardest part. Had to make it look like he came from a stable home background, y'know?"

"And it wasn't?"

Now it was Dean's turn to get quiet. “Not exactly.”

Cas put a comforting hand on Dean’s knee. “It’s okay, Dean. You don’t have to say anything.”

Dean took a steadying breath. “No, no, I, uh. I want to. Tell you. It’s just. It isn’t easy, y’know? Dad loved Mom more than anything. And after she died, he . . . put a lot of pressure on me. To step up, be a man, take care of Sammy.” Dean sighed. “It took me a long time to realize that it was okay to take care of myself, too.

"Anyway, he's a big city lawyer now, got Eileen, but you know that. Can't believe they're getting married in the spring."

"You always sound so proud of him," said Cas.

"Well, yeah. He's a real success story, Sammy. Not like me." Cas squinted.

"What on Earth do you mean?" he asked. Dean shrugged.

"Not much to brag about, bein' a delivery guy," Dean said. "It's decent pay, hours aren't too bad, but it's no Stanford education, y'know? And I'm thirty-two without much to show for it."

"I don't know about that. You have--"

The sound of a siren's wail cut Cas off. He jerked his hand back from Dean’s knee and cast a worried glance toward the radio. Dean picked it up, listening close.

"Warning's expired," he said, turning it off. "Probably gonna be a bit before the next cell hits. I should walk you home."

"Dean, you don't have--"

"Dude, I'm gonna walk you home whether you want me to or not. So, it's easier if you just accept it."

Dean helped him put the storage room to rights, then followed him out onto the drenched street. The rain had mercifully let up, but there was still a distant rumble of thunder that promised more to come. Cas let Dean walk him quickly to his apartment, trying not to think of the last time they'd done this. They were quiet, though Dean walked perhaps a little too close to Cas, the backs of their hands brushing despite Cas's best efforts to keep his distance.

Cas's chest felt like it was going to burst when he turned to say good night to Dean. Like always, there was a tingle in the air that wasn’t due to the storm. Cas wanted to lean in, to capture those plush lips with his own and see what Dean tasted like. It would be so easy to take a step closer and just let this play out.

But he wasn’t brave enough. Dean had a million thoughts in his eyes, and Cas didn't want to give him a chance to say a single one, so he turned to dash up the steps to his apartment.

 “Cas, wait.”

Cas stopped on the bottom step and turned toward Dean, who was striding toward him with purpose. He barely had a moment to register what was happening before Dean took Cas’s face in his hands and crashed their mouths together.

Dean’s lips were just as soft and supple as they looked, and Cas couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped him as Dean kissed him. It was chaste, honestly. Just a brief press of lips against his. But Dean lingered, brushing his lips across Cas’s. Cas shivered at the ghost of breath across his cheek.

 “I, um,” Dean said, then chuckled. “I kinda like you, Cas.”

Cas’s heart climbed straight out of his chest and started dancing a samba in his throat. “I kinda like you, too, Dean,” he said huskily. Dean smiled.

“So, uh, maybe you wanna go get coffee sometime?” Cas smiled, too.

“Well, I do work next door to a coffee shop. It would be very convenient.”

Dean laughed quietly, then leaned forward and kissed Cas again. This time, Cas wrapped his hands around Dean’s biceps while Dean continued to gently hold Cas’s face in his hands.

They parted with one final peck, then Dean leaned back with a slight groan. Cas returned the sentiment.

“Good night, Dean,” Cas said.

 “‘Night, Cas.”

Cas let himself into his apartment and leaned heavily against the arm of his sofa once safely inside, putting his face in his hands.

Dean liked him. He had _kissed_ him. This was wonderful, it was amazing, it was exactly what Cas wanted.

Right?

But still . . . something dark and heavy had settled in the pit of his stomach.

Cas would have thought that after so much time had passed, after trying to put Dean out of his mind and force space between them, that his chest would stop feeling like it was stuck in a vise after seeing him. But even now, after getting closer to Dean, after that kiss, after Dean had _clearly_ made the first move . . . why did Cas feel so _wrong_?

Tonight . . . he hadn't felt the urge to tell Dean about his past, but he could tell it was only a matter of time. Only a few more conversations like they had, pushed close by circumstances beyond their control . . .

_You're a waste, Castiel._

The voice that echoed through his head had been silent for so long that it stole his breath away. He clenched his fist as he pushed it down and away, but there it was.

He couldn't let that resurface again. If he was going to let Dean in . . . he would have to be honest.


	3. Chapter 3

"Good morning, Castiel!"

Cas glanced up from the register to see Hannah, his lone employee, walk in to start her shift for the day. Once business started growing, he'd been able to hire one part-time associate to help with the busier days of the week. Hannah worked part-time as a home teacher for the local school district and volunteered at the library in her spare time, so it seemed like a great fit to have her come in for ten hours a week and help with the small crowds, such as they were. She was also an expert on children's literature, so that came in handy with the kids and their parents who came in for the two-for-one deal on Tuesdays.

"Hello, Hannah," Cas said, cheerfully finishing checking out a customer and handing over the bag full of books. The shop was full of the sound of excited children, each tugging their parents around the store to find the perfect books. Tuesdays were especially busy during the summer months when kids had off from school. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said, tucking her purse into the cubby under the cash register. "I've been helping my mother clean out her house."

"How is she?"

"Better. But, she still isn't mobile enough to take care of herself on her own. It's actually been pretty rough since the house finally sold. There are so many memories, you know? And Hester, my sister, she's been so determined to clear everything out that she isn't letting Mom actually look through anything . . . Anyway, sorry! How are you, Castiel?"

Cas patted Hannah on the shoulder. "I hope things work out with your mother," he said and she melted under his touch a little.

"Thank you."

The door chimed and Cas looked up to watch his favorite Tuesday patron rush through the doors. "Hi, Mr. Novak!" called Ben, giving Cas a wave before shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Hello, Ben," Cas replied. "How was your week?"

"Oh, man, it was awesome. Mom took me to the natural history museum, and I got this really cool book on excavation. We're going to Arizona, so I'll get to take it with me so I can identify the rocks and stuff."

"That sounds like a very rewarding trip."

"Are you kidding? It's gonna be freakin' sweet!"

Cas chuckled. Ben was wearing a vintage AC/DC shirt and black boots today, part of a classic rock trend that Cas had noticed creep into Ben's wardrobe and vernacular a couple of months previously. "Why don't you go check out the New Arrivals? I might have gotten one or two archeology books worth taking a look at if you're going to go out West this summer."

"Awesome," repeated Ben, taking off toward the nonfiction section.

"You are so good with him," Ben's mom, Lisa, said as she stepped up next to Cas. "He just loves coming here."

Cas smiled at her. "It's a pleasure. Ben is a wonderful child."

The door chimed again. Out of habit Cas turned to greet the new patron and shivered. It was Dean walking through the door, grinning broadly. Cas was completely unprepared to see him so soon after last night. He’d though he would have at least until Thursday to come up with what he wanted to say.

"Hey, Lis, sorry. Had to find a space for the car."

"Oh, that's okay. Ben was just getting his weekly recommendation from Mr. Novak."

Cas could feel ice filling his veins as he watched Dean look over at Ben and smile, standing close -- very close -- to Lisa. "Doesn't that kid have enough books? I'm gonna have to build him another bookcase if he keeps this up."

"Shut up," Lisa said playfully. "It's good that he likes to read." Dean shrugged.

"Yeah, sure, but that doesn't mean he has a place to put 'em." Dean grinned at Cas. "Hey, Cas, how's it going?"

Cas felt like he’d stepped into an alternate reality. Just a little over twelve hours ago Dean had kissed him, and now . . . There was an undeniable familiarity between Lisa and Dean that was sending chills into his bloodstream. He blinked a few times, realizing that Dean was staring at him, expecting a response.

"Oh, I'm, uh, I'm well. How are you?" he managed. Dean continued to smile at him brightly.

"I didn't know you two knew each other?" Lisa said, stealing Cas's question before he had a chance to catch up. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, the Book Nook is on my delivery route. Me and Cas got a standing date every Thursday."

"Well, it's not a date--that is, I mean, he handles my packages. Deliveries! Dean delivers. Books, I mean." Cas actually managed to stop himself. "But you, uh, knew that."

Lisa laughed. Cas couldn't help but notice that she was very pretty, with her dark hair and freckles. He'd always seen her in Ben, who had the same hair and complexion. But Dean had freckles, too . . .

A rising panic filled Cas’s throat. Of course this would happen to him. A cold mix of anger and confusion began to bubble up in the pit of Cas’s stomach.

"So, what've you got Ben into now, Cas?" Dean asked. Cas blinked at him, bemused. Did Dean know Lisa and Ben well enough to know how often they came in? Did they talk about him at home? God, did they live together? Was that why they were here now?

In the weeks they’d been getting to know each other, why had Dean never mentioned them?

And now they were staring at him. He needed to say something.

"Um, archeology. He said that you were taking a trip to Arizona, and I just received a few books on Native American settlements in that region. I thought he might enjoy them."

"Man, I can't keep up with that kid. He's into something new every day. We were just at the natural history museum and he's just gotta have this book on rocks. I told him that wasn't the kind of rock I was teaching him about."

Lisa elbowed him. "That joke still isn't funny today, Winchester," she said fondly.

"Hey, Mom!" Ben called. "Come check it out!"

Lisa moved off to see whatever it was Ben wanted her to check out, leaving Cas alone with Dean. They stood in silence for a moment, Cas determinedly not looking at Dean, though Dean was obviously trying to catch his eye.

"It's, uh, good to see you again, Cas," Dean said, tone soft. Anger flared in Cas's gut again. Was Dean really going to try to flirt with him with Lisa and Ben just around the corner?

"Well, as I’ve always said, you're welcome any time," Cas replied. Dean moved back slightly at his tone. "If you'll excuse me."

He moved back into the storage room, finally able to take a deep breath. Dean had come here with Lisa . . . And Ben. Together. He'd never seen Lisa come in with anyone, and she was always the one to bring in Ben. Ben never mentioned anyone, but then they weren't really close, were they? Just a bookstore owner and a customer. There was no reason he would ever know if Lisa was dating . . .

Dean had _kissed him_. It had been amazing. Too good to be true, actually.

Of course Dean was seeing someone. He couldn’t actually be interested in Castiel.

 _Good men aren’t interested in someone like you, Castiel_.

Cas's insides felt like a block of ice. He needed to be logical about this. He would to back out there and see if he could gather more evidence, find out exactly how close Dean and Lisa were.

He could just ask . . .

No, no way. Besides, he didn't want Lisa to think he was interested in her boyfriend, if they were together, and he wouldn't trust Dean's answer if he said they weren't. _And_ , a little voice said inside of him, _you don't really want to know definitively either way_.

Gathering himself, he ducked out of the storeroom and walked back to where he'd been talking with Dean and Lisa. Neither of them were there, so he moved through the shelves under the pretense of finding a particular book to see if they were still in the store.

Sure enough, there they were. Lisa had ducked down next to Ben at one of the tables where he was showing her one of the books Cas knew he would be interested in. And there, right next to Lisa, arm draped across her shoulders, was Dean.

Bitter disappointment trickled through Cas's body, but he only let it have hold of him for a moment. He moved quickly away so that Dean wouldn't catch him looking and headed back to where Hannah was reading to a small group of toddlers. She looked up as he approached, and something in his face must have betrayed a bit of his thoughts because her brow knitted in concern.

"Are you all right, Castiel?" she asked around the wiggling toddler on her lap. Cas quickly rearranged his face and nodded.

"Of course," he said. "I just thought I'd take over reading duty for a while, if you'd like a break."

Cas was barely paying attention as Hannah nodded and stood up, placing the child she'd been holding gently on the floor. Cas took the book from her wordlessly, swapping her places and holding up the book.

Without really knowing where Hannah had left off, he resumed reading the story to the group of small children around him. He was so occupied that he only barely noticed Hannah check out Ben's books and hardly watched Lisa and Dean leave with Ben together.

No, he didn't see any of that happen at all.

"You already read that part," piped a small voice from near his knee. Cas startled and cleared his throat. Hannah looked vaguely concerned from her place behind the counter, though she also covered a small laugh with her hand.

"I did?" Cas asked. A few little heads nodded in agreement. "Well, let's see if I can't find where we left off?"

Dean had a girlfriend. Dean was dating Lisa, and they were raising Ben together. Castiel had never had a chance.

 

"So, you're telling me boy toy has a girlfriend?"

Cas swirled his green tea latte and avoided Gabriel's gaze. "Yes."

"How do you know?"

Cas scowled, looking up at his brother. "I just . . . know."

Gabriel pressed a hand to his chest and looked intrigued. "Why, Cassie, I had no idea you were psychic! What a useful new talent you've discovered. Tell me . . . What are this week's winning lotto numbers?"

Cas continued to glare. "Gabriel."

"What? C'mon, you're not gonna give me anything, you know I have to make up a story to fill the gaps. The truth can't be worse than what my vivid imagination can cook up." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Okay, fine, he . . ." Cas sighed. "He came in yesterday with Ben and his mother, Lisa. They were . . . friendly."

Gabe stared at him. "Go on." Cas rolled his eyes.

"They were _very_ friendly," Cas said.

"What, did they start humping in the History section? What do you mean, friendly?"

"They . . ." Cas took a deep breath. "They stood close to each other. Very close. And he accompanied them on a trip. A family trip. And they're going on vacation together."

"Huh," remarked Gabe. "So . . . He told you all of this?"

"No, Gabriel. I didn't ask him."

"So how do you know, then?"

"Because I was there! I saw them. They were a happy family and I felt like a complete and utter fool."

"Cassie, I don't want you to snap at me here, but--"

"Then don't say it!" Cas rubbed his forehead. "Look, Gabe, I know you think you know better than me, and that my 'people skills' are 'rusty'--"

"Bro, air quotes."

"Enough! I don't have to listen to your critique of how I live my life. I am not about to embarrass myself in front of someone that I happen to think is . . ." He stopped, collecting himself again to avoid a scene in the coffee shop. "I'm not going to pursue Dean.” Never mind that Dean had been pursuing _him_. “You're going to stop bothering me about it. And we'll move on."

Cas managed to stare down Gabe until his brother shrugged. "Okay, fine. Be alone and bitter the rest of your life."

"Thank you," Cas huffed.

They sat in silence for a little while longer until clearly Gabriel couldn't take it anymore.

"Hey, Kali's got this cousin--"

"No, Gabe."

 

 

Cas had promised himself he wasn't going to think about Dean anymore, and for the most part he was successful.

He didn't think about Dean when he closed the store on Wednesday night, anticipating the new delivery of books he was going to get the next day.

Okay, so he thought about Dean a little when he opened the store on Thursday, but only because he was ringing the bell at the back door to have Cas sign for the weekly delivery. He was thinking about Dean in the capacity of his job, there was a difference.

He definitely didn't think about Dean when he went home and had dinner by himself that night after he closed the store. And then he most certainly didn’t think about Dean while he laid in bed alone later, either, about how warm and safe he might feel wrapped in Dean’s arms.

He didn't think about Dean for most of the day on Friday, but he couldn't help it when the man turned up to game night with Charlie again.

He spent the entire night helping a family play a game of Ticket to Ride, which was a very complicated game, thank you very much. He was not avoiding Dean.

Charlie came over to him to wish him a good night after her D&D group had finished their campaign. He hadn't so much as spoken to her all evening.

Okay, he was avoiding Dean a little.

But, honestly, how was he supposed to not think about Dean if he kept talking to him? No, this was the better solution.

He managed to not think about Dean all weekend, while he watched romantic comedies and curled up on his sofa with the next chapter of _Wings_ up for discussion on Monday.

He didn't think about Dean as Aiden finally succumbed to his feelings for Nathaniel and the two came crashing together like forces of nature. He didn't think about how beautiful Dean's wings would be, glowing golden like his soul and stretching to the heavens . . .

He definitely didn't fall asleep on the couch while reading, his book and thoughts and fantasies blending into a dream of feathers and flight.

 

 

 

By Monday night, Cas had been so successful at not thinking about Dean that Dean was all he could think about. He set up for book club with a feeling of dread.

But book club was surprisingly easy. Dean was just as comfortable in the group this week as he had been last, and Cas was able to simply watch him engage with the group, spiritedly discussing Nathaniel's fall.

"Sure, I guess that's true, but Cas had some really interesting ideas last week, didn't you, Cas?" Dean said, pulling Cas out of his thoughts.

"Um, sorry, what?" he said. Meg laughed outright at him and he sent her a glare.

"Last week, or maybe two weeks ago, what did you say about Nathaniel? That he was, like, destined to fall or something?" Cas shook his head.

"No, that wasn't . . . I just said that Nathaniel was always going to fall. That it wasn't Aiden's fault."

"How is that different than destiny?" piped Ava. Cas shrugged.

"Point of view, I suppose," he said. The whole group was looking at him expectantly. He sighed, trying to gather his thoughts. "Nathaniel is a terrible angel. He tries very hard to obey, but he always ends up making a choice that pits him against Heaven's agenda. He's been brainwashed and reprogrammed to follow Heaven's orders more times than he will ever know, yet it hasn't changed Nathaniel's essential being. He is wrong; he was wrong from the start. Aiden didn't make him that way, he was just the final nudge that pushed Nathaniel towards his fall."

"Came off the line with a crack in his chassis," Dean said with a wink. Cas blushed.

"I suppose you could put it that way. I just think . . . We're presented with angels as perfect machines, but they are supposed to love humanity. They are created with the capacity, are ordered, to love humanity. Nathaniel represents that, I think."

"So he's the only one carrying out God's orders," Mildred said. "And he's punished for it. Isn't that romantic?"

"The sex scene's pretty hot, too," Meg said. Cas covered a snort.

Cas ignored the way Dean kept watching him throughout the rest of the night, and when it was finally time to close he ignored Dean pointedly waiting to walk him home again until Dean got the message and left without him.

His heart was aching in his chest as he closed down the registers and locked up the store. He was torn; he enjoyed Dean's company, and didn't want him to disappear, but it was going to be difficult to maintain his distance over a long period of time. He had to find a way to move past the tingling feeling he got in his limbs whenever he was with Dean.

Maybe working so hard to not think about him wasn't helping.

That night Cas tried an experiment. He let his mind wander, opened it up to the thoughts that had been threatening to invade his brain since Dean had started coming to the store more often.

He let himself think about the kiss, how his heart had fluttered in his chest. Dean's lips were plush and soft against his own, and Cas chased them, finally able to indulge in that longing. What would happen if Cas brought it up? Perhaps they would exchange numbers . . . maybe text throughout the day. Take things slowly, with dates and more walks home. Eventually, Cas would let Dean into his apartment. They might have a beer, Dean's cheeks flushing a little under his freckles. They might discuss more books, trading off favorites. Dean's eyes would sparkle, green and clear, long lashes fluttering as Cas leaned in for another kiss.

Cas continued to drift in the fantasy, aching for Dean's touch, wishing he could reach out and feel Dean laying next to him in bed. That it was Dean’s hand on him while he was hard and leaking, arousal tight in his belly, whispering hot in Cas’s ear while Cas came over Dean’s fist . . .

But Dean was probably laying in bed next to Lisa, warm and close, while Ben slept down the hall.

A bucket of cold water drenched his fantasies, an icy grip closed over his heart, chasing away the fuzzy feeling left over after his orgasm. Teeth clenched, Cas wiped his hand on the sheets, then rolled over and tried to go to sleep.

 

 

Two more weeks passed, much the same. Dean would attend book club nights as they neared the end of the discussion of _Wings_ and prepared to choose a new book, and arrive with his weekly delivery on Thursday mornings, then come to game nights with Charlie. He was still sunny, but slowly a kind of cloudy pall began to settle over their interactions.

Cas didn't see Dean again with Lisa and Ben, but every week Lisa and Ben came in like usual Cas had to work very hard not to let his one interaction with the three of them together sour his relationship with Ben. For her part, Lisa didn't seem to notice anything was different, and Cas certainly didn't ask.

Gabriel continued to stay as true to his word as he could, never bringing up Dean and refraining from trying to set him up with everyone he knew. He still managed to be completely aggravating in every other way that he could, but Cas couldn't be too angry with him when Gabe avoided the exact subjects Castiel had asked him to.


	4. Chapter 4

Game night rolled around again the last week in July, and Cas was feeling pretty confident about keeping his distance from Dean. In fact, he had a backup plan.

"Cas, what's wrong? You never ask me to run game night." Hannah was still dressed in her volunteer shirt from the library. It was true, this was not one of Hannah's typical shifts, but Cas knew that he couldn't be alone around Dean, even with other people in the store. He planned to duck out on an errand if Dean came in with Charlie, leaving Hannah to run the store, then sneak back in once Dean had left. Childish, sure, but it was fool-proof.

"Nothing is wrong. I have some things I have to get done that can't wait. It would be easiest if you can watch the store while I go take care of them."

Hannah raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything. Wishful thinking said that Dean wouldn't even show, and Cas wouldn't have to follow through on his plan.

Alas, it was not to be. Charlie came in with her usual wave and, "'Sup, bitches?" with Dean in tow. He caught Cas's eye and gave him a small smile. Cas's heart thumped erratically.

"I have to, um, go, Hannah," he said, his entire excuse flying out of his head. He handed her the keys and didn't wait before striding right past Dean and Charlie and out of the door.

Once he was out of the store, he realized he didn't actually have a plan. He thought about where he could go, what errands he might actually run before it was time to go back and close up. He ended up running to a small craft store for a few supplies for the kids' activity corner, then killing some time looking at the new arrivals in the library to see if there was anything he should get for his store. He kept having to duck out of sight of the librarian, lest she tell Hannah where he'd actually spent his evening.

At five minutes until ten, he started to walk back toward the shop. Surely everyone would have cleared out, especially if Hannah was the one waiting to close the shop. Even the D&D group should realize that the routine was different.

He was mostly right, he saw as he walked back through the door. Everyone had left.

Everyone except Dean.

Cas swallowed and tried to paste a surprised smile on as he saw Dean waiting in the empty store. "Hello, Dean," he said, but Dean just continued to watch him. "Where is Hannah?" Cas asked.

"I told her I'd wait for you," he said, holding out the keys. Cas took them back and shoved them deep into his pocket. "What did I do wrong, man?"

Cas was taken aback by the directness of the question. "I'm not sure what you--"

"You took off the second you saw me! Hannah never comes to game night, and she is a shit liar, by the way. She couldn't tell me why you left, either. So, nut up man. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm . . . I don't . . ."

“Cas, I know something’s wrong. You haven’t talked directly to me in weeks. You avoid me when I come in to the store, and you stopped letting me walk you home.” He paused. “Is it . . . is it because I kissed you? ‘Cause I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just . . . I thought . . .”

Dean took a step closer, tilting his head to catch Castiel's gaze. "Talk to me," he said earnestly. Cas floundered under his gaze for a moment, before steeling himself.

"Why don't you tell me about you and Lisa?" he said, raising his own eyebrow. Dean blinked.

"What about me and Lisa?" he asked. Cas barked a laugh.

"How the two of you are together? How you take Ben on family outings to museums and you're taking a family vacation to Arizona in a couple weeks’ time?"

"What are you talking about? Me and Lisa are friends."

"Yes, _friends_ , I'm sure. Is that what you tell everyone that you're hoping to cheat on her with?"

"Whoa, Cas, slow down!" Cas had started pacing wildly without realizing it, calming slightly as Dean approached him, hands out in supplication. "Ease up, man, it's not like that . . ."

"How am I supposed to believe you? I've seen you two together--"

"Yeah, like, once? And you assumed?"

"You never refuted it!"

"Well, you never asked!" Dean looked at Cas like he was seeing him for the first time. "How the fuck could you think that?"

Cas stared at him. "We don't know each other very well, Dean," he said coldly. Dean threw up his hands.

"Of course we don’t, Cas! You never talk about yourself, and you never let me in! God, do you know how many times I’ve wanted to ask for your number? To just go get coffee, or dinner, or do something stupid and cliché and cheesy and _romantic_? The minute you opened the door in January. _That’s_ how long I’ve wanted you, Cas.”

Cas could hardly breathe. “You . . . you want me?”

“Yes, you idiot! I wasn’t sure that you were, y’know, into guys, but then you brought up fucking _Wings_ , and Cas . . . that’s the book that made me realize I liked dudes, too, and then here you are, talking about it like it’s goddamn classic literature, and I just . . . Dammit, Cas, you drive me crazy and I want you so fucking much.”

Cas shook his head. “You can’t . . . you’re not . . . I’m . . .”

Dean growled, a frustrated noise. “You _still_ can’t say anything? I’m baring my fucking soul here, man. Tell me you feel this. I’m not with Lisa, and I’m not a cheater. I want _you_.”

“You can’t,” Cas said, heart pounding in his ears. “There isn’t any reason why you should.”

“I’ll give you fifty, a hundred, _anything_ ,” Dean said. “Just let me show you.”

His eyes were huge and earnest and everything in Cas _yearned_ to bridge the gap and wrap his trembling arms around Dean but he _couldn’t_. He was frozen to the spot.

“Dean . . .” he breathed, and Dean reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.

It was like a spell broke. Afterward, Cas had no idea who moved first, but in the end Cas was pressed against the wall, Dean’s body a warm and firm pressure against him. Cas kissed Dean hard, gripping onto the back of his shirt with both fists. Dean moaned a little as Cas took his bottom lip between his teeth, tugging lightly. Dean wrapped his arms all the way around Cas’s torso, hands pressing tight along his back as they moved together.

Somewhere in the fog of arousal Cas’s rational brain cried out. This was too much, it was too fast, where had this come from?

But, god, Dean felt _amazing_ , and it had been so long, and Dean said he wasn’t with Lisa . . .

“Fuck, _Cas_ . . .” Dean hissed as Cas pulled back. Dean tried to move in for another kiss, but Cas placed a hand on his chest to stop him. His brow wrinkled in concern. “What’s wrong?”

Cas shook his head. “We can’t,” he whispered. “I—I can’t. This is . . . this feels so good, Dean, don’t misunderstand, but . . .”

“Okay,” Dean breathed, pressing his forehead against Cas’s, but putting distance between the rest of them. He took a steadying breath. “Okay, Cas.”

Cas had half expected Dean to blow past him on his way out the door so he nearly jumped when Dean pushed himself back enough to look him in the eyes and said softly, "I'm Dean Winchester," he said. "I'm a thirty-two-year-old delivery guy for UPS, I've got a younger brother named Sam, I'm single, I like Harrison Ford, classic cars, and I like you."

Cas smiled ruefully at the glint in Dean’s eyes. “It’s not all of that, Dean,” Cas said.

“Then what is it?”

Cas felt the icy fist creeping around his heart and suddenly felt too boxed in when Dean’s hands on either side of him. He pushed away from Dean, who let him go easily, and tried to catch his breath as he moved across the room.

“Please understand . . . I just can’t. I can’t. This is . . . you’re so wonderful, and . . .”

“What, it’s not me, it’s you?” Dean scoffed.

“Yes,” Cas replied sadly.

Dean stared at him for a moment, then seemed to deflate. “Okay. Okay, Cas. You want space, you have space. You can have all the space you want. Just don’t dismiss this, okay?”

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas said. Dean nodded, looking at the floor.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too."

"I think it's best if you don't come into the shop for a while. Just until . . . you know."

Dean continued to nod. "Okay," he said, a bitter edge to his voice, moving toward the door. Cas watched him go with an ache in his heart.

At the door, though, Dean turned. "You know what? I want you to know that I'm gonna leave tonight 'cause you asked. But I don’t want to leave _you_. I dunno what happened to you, Cas, but I do know that I like you. A lot. And I want to get to know you and see where this goes. So, you call me if you figure out whatever's going on with you."

He scribbled what Cas assumed was his number onto a piece of paper and tucked it under a book near the door, then left the store. The bell above the door jingled into the silence.

 

 

It didn't take long after that for Dean to disappear. He didn't come to the book club that Monday when they finished discussing _Wings_ , and another delivery driver rang the bell on Thursday morning. Cas was surprised with the speed and efficiency with which Dean Winchester removed himself from Cas's life. He still saw Lisa and Ben on Tuesday, but he worked hard to keep things professional and smile. When Lisa didn't seem to know that anything was wrong, he realized that Dean most likely hadn't been lying to him about their relationship.

Hannah, for what it was worth, tried very hard to keep things light. She took on any jobs that Cas asked of her, and actually came in to work a few more hours when Cas was feeling tired at the end of the second week after his fight with Dean. He tried to concentrate on his work, but he was obviously not covering very well.

"What's going on, little bro?" Gabe asked during a coffee date in early August. Cas glared at him.

"Gabriel, you've been doing so well. Why break your streak of staying out of my personal life now?"

"Hey, I kept quiet as long as it wasn't interfering with me, but you brought this crap into our brotherly bonding time and so it's fair game now. So spill."

Cas shrugged. "There's nothing to spill. Things are as they have always been."

"Cas, whatever else you may be, you are an absolutely awful liar." Cas remained close-lipped.                Gabriel pulled out his cell phone. "Okay, fine, you leave me no choice. I'm pulling out the big guns."

Cas reached for the phone over the table. "No, Gabriel, absolutely not, you are not calling our mother."

"Then tell me what is wrong with you."

"Nothing is wrong. I'm simply resigned to live my life as it was dealt."

"Cassie, with all due respect, that is bullshit."

Cas was gobsmacked. "I'm sorry, did I ask your opinion?"

"No, but you're getting it anyway. See, two years ago my tenacious little brother quit his job and left everything behind to start a business in the middle of nowhere, Kansas."

"Lawrence is not the middle of nowhere, Gabe."

"Don't interrupt. So, this ballsy brother of mine, threw off the mantle of our family and the job he spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on being educated for to pack up and haul ass to Kansas to do what he had always wanted to do. Now, I always had my suspicions that something was chasing him, but in the end he did it for himself. To be happy."

Cas leveled him with a cold stare. "What is your point?"

"The point is that I have no idea who this asshat sitting across the table from me is. He's certainly not my stubborn-ass baby brother. I don't know this guy."

"I'm the same guy, Gabe."

"Cas, what did you run from in Pennsylvania?"

Cas turned white, staring at the table in front of him. "I'm not talking about that, Gabriel."

"So there was something, then."

Cas stayed quiet. Gabriel nodded.

"Yeah, okay. But see, the thing is, whatever you're running from? Whatever's chasing you? You can't let it define your entire future."

Mulishly, Cas remained quiet while he and Gabriel finished their coffee. They were both waiting for the other to crack and say something, though neither knew exactly what they would say if they did.

 

 

"Castiel, how are you doing?"

Cas paused in the middle of sweeping the store and rested his head against the broom handle.

"I'm fine, Hannah."

Hannah adjusted her purse on her shoulder but didn't make a move to leave.

"Are you certain? You've seemed . . . off lately."

It had been a long couple of weeks since the last time Cas saw Dean, since his last discussion about the matter with Gabriel, and Cas had thought he was going through the motions well enough to fool those around him. He still felt a dull ache in the pit of his stomach over the whole thing, but he was managing.

"I'm fine," Cas repeated. "Why don't you head home? I'll just be a few more minutes."

Hannah eyed him for another moment, then left. Cas put his head down and continued to sweep, lost in thought.

The bell over the door chimed. Crap, Cas had forgotten to lock the door behind her.

"Sorry, we're closed--" he said, turning and stopping in his tracks.

"Hey, Cas."

Dean stood just inside the door of the shop, hands in his pockets and a sheepish look on his face. Cas had to work to remember to breathe.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I just . . . wanted to see you, I guess."

Cas bit back a sarcastic retort and resumed sweeping. Dean cleared his throat.

"How have you been, Cas?"

Cas huffed a sigh and turned to face Dean. "What are you doing here, Dean?" he repeated. "I thought you were going to wait for me to call."

"I guess . . . Gabriel texted me, and--"

Cas rolled his eyes. "Oh, Gabriel texted you and you thought that it was permission for you to come back? After I told you I couldn't see you anymore? That I couldn't have you around?"

"He said you missed me," Dean said quietly. Cas glared.

"Gabriel should keep his mouth shut." Dean perked up.

"So, did you? Miss me?"

Cas sighed again. "Dean, I thought we agreed that we needed distance. I thought I made it clear that this wasn't a good idea. That I didn't want--"

"And if that's still true, I'll go. I'll leave right now, Cas, if that's what you want. But I . . . The minute I didn't see you first thing Thursday morning, I realized something."

"What?"

"You're important to me, Cas. I want to be your friend. I thought we _were_ friends. And I guess, I just had to tell you that."

Cas watched Dean's shoulders slump, pulling at his heartstrings. "Thank you," Cas said.

A moment passed, then Dean said, "Can I ask why? Why you don't think that we would be a good idea?"

"I ruin everything, Dean," Cas said suddenly. "And even though you're not with Lisa, I just thought . . . You would be so much better off with anyone but me."

"I don't think that."

Cas shook his head fondly. "You hardly know me at all, Dean. You can't know."

Dean took a cautious step forward, an impish grin on his face. "Then, could I get to know you, maybe?"

"Dean, I can't . . . I won't do that to you. You deserve so much more . . ."

"Can I decide what I deserve and what I don't? I just want . . . God, Cas, I can't stop thinking about you. You're always there, in the back of my mind, and I can't just . . ."

They were close now, like they'd been on that last night, and Cas couldn't help it. Dean's face was so earnest, so open and kind, and Cas wanted to be close to him so badly that he reached out and touched fingertips to his chin.

"I can't let you in, Dean," Cas whispered.

"Can't or won't?" Dean said softly. Cas shook his head.

"It doesn't matter."

But Dean's eyes were so soft and he was so close and Cas couldn't help himself, couldn't stop from leaning forward and pressing his lips to Dean's.

It was easy, and brief, and felt just a little bit like coming home for Cas. Dean kept his hands to himself, let Cas lead, and Cas kept it chaste, closed-mouthed and fleeting. When he pulled back, Dean's eyes were lit up like a child's at Christmas.

"How about I send you postcards, Cas?" he said, reaching out gently to rub Cas's upper arms.

"Okay," Cas said on a laugh.

"And I'll see you when I get back."

Cas nodded. He pressed another soft kiss to Dean's lips, and then Dean left, the door chiming behind him.

The voice screamed at him in the back of his head, but for some reason now Cas was able to ignore it. Maybe it was time to face his demons head-on.


	5. Chapter 5

Cas fiddled with the edge of the case on his phone and bounced his heel as he waited in the crowded restaurant. She had said she would meet him on her lunch break, whenever she could get away, so he was waiting here until she showed.

"Are you ready to order?" the waitress asked for the third time.

"No, thank you, I'll wait until--"

"Castiel."

The cool voice sent a shiver down his spine as a woman he thought he would never see again came up to the table.

"Mirabel," he answered, inclining his head to her. "Won't you sit down?"

She took the seat opposite him, looking incredibly uncomfortable. In all of the time he knew her, Cas had never seen Mirabel smile.

"Can I get you anything?" the waitress asked. Mirabel glanced at the menu without really seeing it.

"I'll take a house salad with vinaigrette and a water, please."

Cas handed his menu over and said, "Just a coffee for me, please."

The waitress walked off with their menus, probably muttering about a minuscule tip, leaving Cas alone with his dining companion.

"Thank you for meeting me, Mirabel," Cas said. She stared at him.

"I'll be honest, I didn't think I would see you again, Castiel. After everything."

Cas could feel his throat start to close up, but he couldn't afford to lose his nerve now. "I wanted to talk about . . . About Ishim."

Mirabel raised an eyebrow but didn't look surprised. "Yes, I thought you would." She offered nothing else. Cas swallowed.

"How is Benjamin?" he asked, avoiding the subject.

"They're fine. We still see each other from time to time. But you didn't want to talk about Benjamin."

The waitress came back with Cas's coffee and Mirabel's water, and Cas took advantage of the break to sip at his coffee and gather his thoughts. Mirabel watched him over the rim of her glass for a moment.

"What happened between you and my brother, in the end, Castiel?" she asked eventually. Cas tried to find a way to begin.

"I loved him, Mirabel," Cas said. "Or, at least, I thought I did. He was . . . Well, you know what he was like."

"Charming to the end," she said grimly.

"I was sorry to hear he passed."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, were you?"

"Yes. Despite everything, he . . . he shaped so much of my life."

"Not always for the better."

Cas nodded into his coffee. "It's taken a long time for me to even think about how things ended. But they didn't begin well, either."

"My brother was difficult to love. He was not a nice person, Castiel."

"He . . . I still hear his voice, sometimes. In the back of my head, telling me those things . . . How worthless I am. I want to move on, Mirabel, I want . . ."

"Is there someone new in your life?"

Cas nodded. "He could . . . It could be the start of something special, I think, but I can't. I still think of the things I said, and who I was, and how I let Ishim down . . ."

"Castiel, listen to me." Cas was surprised by the fervor in her tone. "My brother was an asshole who put you through hell. He had his own issues, but what he did to you was not forgivable. Please, whatever you do, do not let him control your life anymore."

"I . . . Thank you," Cas said. "I think I needed to hear that."

A small smile pulled at the corner of Mirabel's lips. "You are a good man, Castiel."

Cas smiled a little back at her. "Thank you."

They sat in silence for a little while longer, regarding each other over their drinks, until Mirabel said, "Will you tell me about your life since I saw you? I think I'd like to know what you've been doing."

 

 

Castiel checked the mailbox and smiled. Another postcard, this one a picture of the Grand Canyon, with Dean's tidy scrawl on the back. They'd been down into the canyon on mules, and Dean's had apparently had a terrible flatulence problem throughout the entire journey. He had been afraid of being pitched off the trail and into the canyon's depths the whole time.

“ _That, and I'm gonna kill Lisa for this idea. Arizona in August? I'm pretty sure Hell is Autumn in Vermont compared to this!_ ”

He tucked the postcard onto the bulletin board behind the counter and went to answer the back door of the shop.

"Hey, Cas!"

"Hello, Benny," Cas greeted his new delivery driver. Benny was affable and sociable, always ready with a smile and a quick chat. He referred to Dean as "brother" and sometimes called Cas "cher" with a doff of his hat. Cas's Thursdays weren't quite the same without Dean, but Benny's visits were nice, and didn't leave Cas with an aching sense of longing in his chest.

After moving the new packages into the storeroom for sorting, Hannah walked through the door with her typical small smile and a wave.

"Hello," she said, putting her things away behind the counter. "Anything good delivered today?"

Cas shrugged as he passed. "You can sort them while I'm gone, if you want," he said, passing off the shop keys. He would have to get Hannah her own copy if she was going to keep minding the store for him while he stepped out.

"Sounds like fun," she said wryly. Cas waved at her as he left.

After he'd returned from Chicago and his brief visit with Ishim's sister, Gabriel had left the card of a counselor in his in-tray at the store. He considered the idea for only a moment before deciding he would book an appointment with the option to cancel if he changed his mind. The counselor's office was only a few blocks from his shop, so he could walk there while Hannah minded the store for a couple of hours.

The counselor's office was in an old house squished between two newer-looking building developments. It was painted yellow and had cheerful flowers outside, and a sign advertising "Comprehensive Family Health Services."

As quaint as the exterior was, the interior of the house was outfitted as a modern medical office. A small counter with a glass panel set up between the patients and the staff dominated the space, and large, comfortable-looking chairs lined the waiting room. Cas approached the desk cautiously, but a kind-looking young woman beckoned him forward.

"How can I help you?" she asked cheerily.

"My name is Castiel Novak, I'm here for an appointment with Missouri Moseley?"

"I'll get you checked in! Have you done the questionnaire yet?"

Castiel said he hadn't, so she handed him a clipboard and a small packet of papers with questions lining both sides of the paper. He thanked her and went to have a seat to answer.

The questionnaire contained items that Cas wouldn't have ever thought were relevant, and things that had little to nothing to do with what he was currently experiencing. There was a small space for a brief statement of why he was visiting that day, and afterward he turned it back in to the girl at the reception desk. He sat and examined the art along the walls while he waited to be called back.

"Mr. Novak?" came a soft voice from the door back toward the offices. Cas stood and followed the voice back down the hall to where a small, smiling woman stood outside of a door with a placard declaring "Missouri Moseley, Licensed Counselor."

"Hello, Mr. Novak, my name is Missouri. I'm glad you came in today."

Cas shuffled in to the office and found an unexpected sight. A comfortable couch sat against a long wall of windows, bright with light but with shades drawn so that outside eyes couldn't see in. It was inviting, and Missouri gestured toward the couch while she sat in a wheeled office chair across from him.

"Is it okay if I call you Castiel?" she asked.

"Cas is fine," he said, not sure what to do with his hands.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Cas. Now, why don't you tell me a little bit about what you're doing here?"

Cas hesitated for a moment before launching into his prepared statement.

"My brother gave me your card because I've been . . . having a hard time lately," he managed. "I . . . A long time ago, I was in what eventually became an abusive relationship. He didn't physically abuse me but there was . . . emotional, psychological abuse. He was controlling and negative, and I . . . I've never seemed to be able to shake that, I guess."

Missouri nodded. "I'm glad you came to see me, Cas. I just want you to know that I'm here to listen. I'm not going to diagnose you with anything, not unless we need to for medical or insurance reasons. I want to help you feel better."

Cas breathed a little more easily, and nodded. Missouri smiled, and began to tell him a little about herself before asking him some questions from the paperwork.

An hour later, Cas left the office and felt a little dizzy with the headiness of it all. Missouri had scheduled another appointment with him for the next week and discussed the idea of clinical depression with him. Cas still wasn't sure if he was ready to open up completely, or take on a label like "depressed," but he knew that what he was doing was important for himself.

 

 

"Surprise!"

Cas looked around the store and laughed. He'd only been gone for a few hours while Hannah kept a watch on the Wednesday night study group. Apparently a group of engineering and pre-med students, combined with craft supplies and a few hours, could turn a hole-in-the-wall bookstore into a well-decorated party space. A banner declaring, "Congratulations, Castiel!" was draped across the ceiling.

"What is this?" he asked. Hannah smiled at him and pulled him further into the space.

"Happy third anniversary of the Book Nook, Castiel!" she said. Cas grinned back and looked around the store. It was stuffed full of very familiar faces. The entirety of the book club was there, including the self-proclaimed anti-social Meg, as well as most of the regulars from game night and the university study group. And there, in the middle, was Dean.

Dean and Cas had been slowly getting to know each other over the course of the fall after Dean's return from his vacation and Cas's starting counseling. Cas had been open with Dean about needing to take it slow since he was only starting to recover from his relationship with Ishim, and Dean had taken that to heart. They'd gone on a handful of casual dates, though nothing "official," mostly getting to know each other as friends. Now, Dean reached out to hug him and Cas responded with enthusiasm, wrapping his arms around Dean.

"Congrats, man," said Dean, pulling back and smiling. "I'm glad you picked Lawrence."

"Glad Gabriel picked Lawrence, you mean," said Cas, and Gabe, managing to hear him, let out a whoop.

"You heard it, folks, you can thank me for the awesome presence of Castiel Novak!"

There were games and finger foods, and Cas hadn't laughed so hard in a long time. He looked around the group and realized that the shop that had been his entire life had expanded to support the lives of dozens of people around him. It had taken on a life of its own; the Book Nook had built a community, a family, all on its own.

The party lasted well past closing time, and at some point Gabriel broke out a bottle of liquor that he started spiking the punch with. As Gabe and Meg fell over each other laughing about some inappropriate joke, Dean slid up beside him, taking his hand.

"Hey, handsome," Dean said in his ear. "How are you?"

"I'm good," said Cas, smiling. "Really good."

Dean smiled back at him, rubbing the back of his hand with a thumb. Cas squeezed his hand.

"Take a walk with me?" he asked. Dean looked around.

"What, and miss this?"

"We'll only be gone a minute. They can live without me."

So Cas led Dean out onto the starlit street by the hand. They walked together for a bit, Cas leading the way, looking up at the stars.

"I wanted to say thank you," Cas said softly after a while.

"What for?" Dean asked.

"For . . . respecting my boundaries when I asked. For not giving up on me. For being willing to wait, even though I would never ask that of you."

"I know that, man. You don't have to thank me."

Cas stopped and looked at Dean, pulling his arms around himself. "I do, though. And I want you to know that I think . . . if you were okay with it . . . I'd like to introduce you to people as my boyfriend."

Dean's face lit up. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Yes," said Cas.

"Cool," breathed Dean, and he leaned in, putting his warm hands on Cas's face and pulling him into a soft kiss.

It wasn't like they hadn't kissed before, but now, something was different. Cas could feel it all the way down to his toes. He ran his hands over Dean's strong shoulders and looped his arms around Dean's back, kissing him back enthusiastically.

And, admittedly, a street in Lawrence, Kansas wasn't the most ideal place to be two men kissing each other passionately, so sooner than he would have liked, Cas pulled back to look at Dean. "Wanna go back to the party, boyfriend?" he asked.

"Hell yeah," said Dean, kissing Cas one last time.

Cas had no idea what would happen next. He didn't know if or when that tiny voice would resurface in the back of his head, or if this would go anywhere good. But he had a feeling, and he trusted Dean. And, perhaps even more importantly, he was beginning to trust himself.


	6. Epilogue

**Six Months Later**

 

"Dean, we are going to be late!"

Dean was still tying his dress shoes as Cas burst into the hotel room, jacket in hand. He sighed.

"Dean, are you seriously going to be late to your brother's wedding? You're the best man!"

"I know, I know, shut up," he said, dashing around making sure he had everything. "How do I look?"

"Gorgeous. You're going to have to beat bridesmaids back with a stick."

Dean waggled his eyebrows. "What about the groomsmen?" he asked.

"What, you mean Mick? Please, that is the straightest man I think I've ever met."

"You're breakin' my heart, here, Cas."

Cas leaned over and kissed him. "You're just going to have to live. Come on, I don't think Sam will forgive you if you're late."

Together they rushed downstairs and toward the ballroom where the wedding was going to take place. Cas bade Dean farewell and went to take his own seat with the rest of the gathered family and friends.

The ceremony was beautiful. Eileen, Sam's fiancee, was deaf, so there was an interpreter that translated the ceremony into sign language for the congregation. Sam both recited his vows aloud and signed them, and Cas noticed Dean surreptitiously wiping a tear with the back of his hand as they were pronounced married.

Cas enjoyed the reception a little more than he thought he was going to. Dean declared that he didn't dance, then proceeded to drink a little too much whiskey and took a bridesmaid or two for a spin on the dance floor. Cas, remaining sober and so not having the luxury of blaming antics on alcohol, did _not_ dance, though he did perform a rather stunning rendition of "Highway to Hell" at the karaoke booth. The party went on well into the night, and by the time the crowd had wished Sam and Eileen off with a shower of biodegradable confetti, Cas was exhausted and ready for bed.

Dean leaned on Cas a little too hard as they went back to their room in the elevator, but seemed to be sobering up a bit as they reached the room and climbed into bed.

“You’re going to crash, aren’t you?” Cas asked as Dean slid sideways onto the bed.

“Nope,” Dean said, attempting to take off his tux jacket without sitting up. Cas carefully removed his cuff links and tie, setting them on the bedside table, as he rolled his eyes at his boyfriend.

“Are you sure? It’s been a while since you’ve had that much whiskey.”

“M’fine,” came the muffled answer. Dean was currently struggling to pull his shirt off over his head without unbuttoning it. Cas chuckled, carefully removing his own jacket and shirt before moving to take pity on Dean.

“Dean—Dean, wait, let me help . . .”

Cas managed to get Dean to sit still long enough to set him free of the white tux shirt. When Cas pulled the garment over Dean’s head, he revealed Dean, gazing at him with soft eyes.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said quietly. Cas smiled.

“Of course.”

Cas moved to fold the shirt neatly and set it aside, but Dean stopped him with fingers hooked in Cas’s belt loops. Dean worked his thumbs under Cas’s undershirt, rubbing firmly at Cas’s prominent hip bones. Cas suppressed a shudder at the touch, reaching up with a free hand to cup Dean’s cheek.

“Hey,” Dean said, a lopsided smile on his face. Cas just continued to smile back, stroking the short hair behind Dean’s ear. Dean turned to plant a kiss on the inside of Cas’s wrist, then inched forward toward the edge of the bed, sliding his warm hands under Cas’s t-shirt.

“Dean . . .” Cas murmured, dropping Dean’s shirt to the floor as Dean pushed Cas’s t-shirt over his head, Cas crossing his arms to pull it off the rest of the way. Dean pressed gentle kisses to Cas’s stomach, stopping to suck a slight bruise onto Cas’s left hip.

Dean was like this, when they were together. He liked to move slow, taking Cas apart inch by inch, and after their months together, Cas had started to feel important, precious under Dean’s hands.

And tonight, Cas was a little affected by seeing his gorgeous boyfriend in a tux, standing at a wedding altar.

But only a little.

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and pressed their mouths together in a deep kiss. Dean tasted more than a little like the whiskey he’d been drinking, but he appeared physically unaffected by the alcohol when Cas climbed into his lap. Dean moaned when they made contact, and Cas grappled with Dean’s t-shirt to get it over Dean’s head. The shirt was tossed somewhere onto the floor, revealing miles of freckled skin that Cas hadn’t tired of yet. He rolled his hips against Dean’s, pressing Dean back onto the bed, running light fingers down Dean’s firm, warm chest. Cas plucked sharply at one of Dean’s nipples, and Dean arched off the bed.

“Cas!” Dean gasped, and Cas dove back into another probing kiss.

They got tangled up taking off each other’s pants, laughing when Dean forgot a sock, and with his heart full Cas stared into Dean’s fathomless eyes while they moved together until they both came, gasping each other’s names into hot skin.

Dean kissed Cas, long and lingering, then moved to get something to clean them up. Once that was done, Dean gathered Cas close and settled down to sleep.

Cas lay awake longer than he expected, stroking Dean's bicep absently. So much had changed in the last year since the Book Nook had shown up on Dean's delivery route. And, if Cas and Dean wanted, more could change at any time.

"Mmm, don't watch me sleep, Cas," slurred Dean, turning over. "'S creepy."

Cas smiled and spooned up behind his boyfriend. "I love you, Dean," he whispered into Dean's skin. Apparently Dean wasn't as asleep as Cas had hoped. He stiffened, then turned in Cas's arms to face him.

"You . . . What?" Dean asked. Cas squashed the butterflies in his stomach and repeated himself.

"I love you," he said firmly. Dean simply stared for a moment, then slowly reached out and cupped Cas's face.

"Cas . . ."

"It's okay," Cas said, backtracking quickly. "You don't have to say it back. I wasn't even sure if you heard me, I just wanted to say it, it just came out, I--"

"Cas! I love you, too, you big dork."

Cas's eyes lit up. "You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, I thought you knew that."

"No, I didn't."

Dean started to blush. "Well, I do. Let's not make a big deal out of it."

Cas grinned and launched himself at Dean, luxuriating in the feeling of being skin to skin, kissing his boyfriend -- who he loved and who loved him back -- and threading his fingers through his hair. Dean, for his part, wrapped his arms around Cas's back, pulling him impossibly close.

So yeah, things weren't perfect, but Cas was happy, and he had sunshine in his life every day. He couldn't really ask for more than that.


End file.
